


Ichor

by dizzysodas



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Ancient Greek Religion & Lore - Freeform, Demigods, Fauns & Satyrs, M/M, Quests, for the prompt "nature", uhhh fuck idk this is rly out there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzysodas/pseuds/dizzysodas
Summary: Ancient Greek AU.Moomintroll felt compelled to go on this quest. He needed to do it. There were many bigger, braver, and more competent men who could, but he wished so dearly to win back the heart of the princess of the city.So he went.While on his quest, due to unforeseen circumstances, he finds himself without money, his bow and arrow, and near death.A mysterious nature spirit decides to help him.(For the prompt, "Nature").





	Ichor

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha this was for the prompt of "nature" for snufkin appreciation week (check out @moomin-weeks on tumblr for the prompts) but i got EXCITED and wanted to post it anyway OKAY

It was a bright summer afternoon. The air was hot and sticky with humidity, and birds sung overhead. The forest was buzzing with life, even if in such weather, the most someone might want to do would be to sit under a shady tree and laze about.

It was a pleasant day out, and Moomintroll was running for his life.

He panted and sprinted as fast as he could, dashing in between trees, over logs, and through vines. His brow was thick with sweat, as he had been running for a while now. Heart beating out of his chest, adrenaline coursed through his veins. Even so, his leather armor was weighing him down. He couldn’t keep up this pace for long.

Demigods were supposed to have superior strength to full humans. But he was soft and pudgy and frail. His stomach stuck out of his armor slightly. He had to suck it in most of the time to have it even fit properly. And his godly parent wasn’t exactly known for her superior strength. Or wits. Or charm.

He cursed himself for taking on this quest. He was foolishly infatuated with someone unattainable, and had taken on something that would undoubtedly get him killed. 

So, he ran. He could hear the dogs barking and snarling behind him, getting closer and closer.

And, he tripped over a vine. This was it.

Or, at least he thought so. Closing his eyes in fear, he braced himself for impact. But nothing came. Suddenly, he felt something grab at his stomach, and he was catapulted up about ten feet into the air.

The scream that came out of his mouth was inhuman. Something hard and heavy was fastened to his waist, and upon looking down, he was being pulled up high into a tree by… A tree branch.

The Gods worked in mysterious ways, but it didn’t make him any less terrified. The branch that was curled around his waist placed him gingerly onto another tree branch about twenty feet into the air, sat next to a man. He was playing a pan flute, and the bottom half of him was furry and ended in two cloven hooves. His hair was messy, like a birds nest, but one could still see two tiny horns growing out of the top of his head. The tune he was playing was sweet and soft.

He looked at Moomintroll briefly, and kept on playing his pan flute. Looking down, the dogs that were chasing Moomintroll were prowling around the forest floor, confused. Slowly, vines that hung off the side of the trees started whipping at them, until they all started yelping and crying, running away.

The satyr put down his pan flute. He was silent.

Moomintroll was gasping for air, and wiped at his forehead. He looked to the man beside him.

“Thank you.” He said between breaths. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“And what, have you mauled by dogs?”

“... Yes?”

“Hm. Well, you’re welcome, I suppose.” He brushed his instrument with the tips of his fingers. “Are you alright?”

“No.” Moomintroll groaned. “My horse, my gold… Gone. Thieves stole everything I brought with me, and then sicced their dogs on me.”

“Are you a traveler?”

“No.” Moomintroll said miserably. “I’m on a quest.”

“A hero, then?”

“I don’t feel like one.”

The satyr was quiet for a moment. “Where are you headed?”

“The caves of Alistrati.”

“Any reason?”

Moomintroll squinted and looked at the satyr. “What’s your name?”

“Snufkin.”

“And you’re a satyr of Pan?”

“Why, was it so obvious?” Snufkin smiled and touched the tip of one of his horns.

“Maybe. Well, thank you, Snufkin. Can you let me down from this tree now?” Moomintroll was still trying to catch his breath, and it was embarrassing him.

“As you wish.” Snufkin put his pan flute to his lips again, and the tree branch slowly twisted and bent over itself to let the two onto the ground. Moomintroll slid off the branch and landed on the floor with a thud. Snufkin got down much more elegantly.

Moomin brushed himself off and looked around.

He realized he didn’t know where he was.

“By the heavens,” He groaned, “I ran so far off path that I’m lost now.” He looked over to Snufkin. “Do you know your way around?”

Snufkin didn’t answer at first, instead playing his tune to twist the tree branch back into its original shape. He turned, putting his pan flute down into a pouch that was fastened around his waist. “Yes. Why?”

“Would you mind… Er, showing me how to get back to the path?”

“And what would I get in return?”

Moomintroll gaped for a moment. “I can-”

“I’m not being serious. Traveling these woods with someone new would be interesting enough.” He reached into his pouch and took out an apple. He spun it in his hands. “You don’t have a horse. You’re off the path. The trip to Alistrati would take two weeks walking, and two weeks back. And that’s taking the way through the woods, it’d take you longer on the main path.”

Moomintroll cursed under his breath, causing Snufkin to raise an eyebrow. “I’m no hero. By the time I’m through with this, they’re going to call be the Moomintroll of Misfortune. I don’t know why I’m even here. Only one day on my quest and everything’s already gone wrong.”

Snufkin took a bite out of his apple. “Your name is Moomintroll?”

“Yes.” Moomin said glumly.

“Well, Moomintroll, I can guide you through these woods if you want.”

Moomin’s ears perked up. “Really?”

“I’ve been getting awfully bored of these woods anyway, so perhaps traveling beyond this two mile radius that I’ve been stuck in recently will be good for me. I don’t see why not.”

“I…” Moomintroll paused, the words stuck in his throat. “That’s awfully kind of you. I don’t know how I’d repay you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Did somebody send you?”

“What?”

“Did anybody send you? A spirit, a God… I don’t know. I’d like to think my mother looks after me sometimes.”

“No.” Snufkin had a faint smile on his face. He looked vaguely mysterious, Moomin thought. “I service Pan, but I do as I please.”

“Oh. Well, thank you again.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Snufkin began walking away, motioning to Moomintroll to follow him. His pace was swift, and he had no trouble climbing over the different logs and vines that littered the forest floor. 

Moomin looked at the satyr. Cascades of light came down from the sky, filtered through the leaves of the trees. They hit Snufkin’s fur as he walked, and his deep earthy fur looked almost golden in the sunlight.

He had a hard time keeping up. He was still winded from his sprint earlier, and as they walked, the trees got closer together and there were more things in the way of the narrow forest path.

Moomintroll tripped. Again.

Almost immediately, Snufkin was in front of him, offering a hand to help him up. He took it, dusting off his thin leather armor. 

“Can we rest?” Moomintroll sighed.

“Alright.” Snufkin took out his pan flute again, playing a swift cheerful tune. Roots of trees unearthed themselves and reached up, creating makeshift benches.

“Can you just… Do that? Whenever you want? Is that… A satyr thing?” Moomintroll asked, uneasily taking a seat. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never met one before. I grew up sheltered.”

“Well, most satyrs have an affinity for music,” Snufkin said thoughtfully, “But, no. My instrument is enchanted. It was a gift.”

“Really?” Moomintroll looked up, intrigued. “Who was it a gift from?”

“My father. Who he got it from, I don’t know.”

“That’s nice.” Moomin ran his hand along the tree root. It was damp, which he felt unnerved by, but he didn’t know what he expected. “My papa gifted me a bow and arrow, but it was stolen from me by those thieves. I still have this, though.” He tapped at his sheathed sword that lay at his side.

“Do you know how to use it?”

“... No.”

“Hm. You’re not in the military, are you?”

“No. I worked at a castle, as a servant. I’d work in the kitchens and bring the princess her food.”

“Then, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

Moomintroll placed his head in his hands glumly. “I’m on a quest for Princess Snorkmaiden. I…” He looked down, embarrassed. “I thought if I proved myself to her, maybe… She would…”

“I see.” 

“Everybody laughed when I volunteered, you know. They said I couldn’t do it. But Princess Snorkmaiden smiled and told me I could go, and to be brave.” He sighed. “Do you know of her? The princess?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t concern myself with city politics.”

“Oh. You’re probably hundreds of years old, right? I read in a book once that satyrs live for hundreds of years, so it’d make sense that you wouldn’t care about this sort of thing.”

Snufkin blinked. “I’m in my twenties.”

“Oh. Me too.”

They were silent for a moment. Snufkin pulled out another apple from his bag, along with a small knife. He cut the apple in half and handed it to Moomintroll.

Moomintroll grabbed it and took a bite. “Do you have water?” He asked.

“I have wine.” Snufkin said simply.

“Oh. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s a bit early.”

Eventually, they got up and continued on. They traveled for the rest of the day, mostly in silence with occasional breaks. Snufkin would play his pan flute, and roots would jut out of the ground. Moomintroll wondered if that was bad for the trees or not.

Eventually, the sun started to set. Moomintrolls back and knees ached from walking all day. He wished he had a horse.

“We should make camp.” Moomintroll said, winded. “My bag with all of my blankets and supplies got stolen, so…”

“That’s okay. Come on, there’s a clearing up ahead.” Snufkin began walking faster, and Moomintroll half-jogged after him.

They came across a meadow. There were plush beds of grass everywhere, and a stream ran through the middle of it. Fireflies glowed against the darkening sky.

“Here?” Moomintroll asked. “If I sleep in the grass, I’ll be bitten by a snake of some sort.”

Snufkin tapped his pan flute. “No you won’t.”

“... Okay.”

They walked over to the stream and sat next to it. Snufkin took out his pan flute once again and began playing a lovely tune, but nothing happened. 

“What’re you doing?” Moomintroll asked.

Snufkin finished up his song before replying. “Playing for the fish.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I thought they’d like it.”

Moomintroll blinked. He’d never met any magical creature before. He mainly stayed inside of the city he grew up in, and had an admittedly sheltered life. He knew he might encounter some strange people on his wanderings, but even so, Snufkin shocked him.

Snufkin stood up. “Alright.” He looked at the horizon. The sun was almost completely set, and the sky was a combination of pinks, purples, and oranges. “We should make your bed.”

“But I don’t have-”

“Hush.” Snufkin took out his pan flute once again and began playing a chipper tune. The wild grass began weaving itself around each other, creating a mass that was a loose definition of a “bed”.

Suddenly, Snufkin stumbled. Moomintroll rushed forward and grabbed onto his shoulder to steady him. The satyr looked very, very tired.

“Are you okay?” Moomin asked.

“I’m fine. Using too much magic does that to you, is all.” He stood up straight and nodded to Moomintroll. “I’ll be around. Goodnight.” And with that, he walked off into the forest, and out of sight.

Moomintroll looked after him.

He felt tired too, suddenly. The events of the day caught up with him. Scooting himself into the grass bed, he laid down. It was scratchy.

He realized he hadn’t had dinner. All the food he had brought with him was gone.

His stomach rumbled.

He looked at the stream. He could catch a fish, but he didn’t exactly know how to, he didn’t have equipment, and he had no fire.

_ I guess I’ll starve.  _ He thought bitterly to himself.

It wasn’t even late, and Snufkin had left him alone by himself. 

He reached into his pouch that was fastened to his side and reached for a small book.

Pinned to the insides of the pages were letters that Princess Snorkmaiden had sent to him while they were teenagers.

_ Moomintroll, _

_ I’m shocked by your actions at last night’s feast. It was completely inappropriate for you to speak to me in front of my brother. And yet, you intrigue me. _

_ Meet me behind the gardens come midnight. I wish to speak to you in private.  _

_ Snorkmaiden _

That was when they were fifteen.

They had a brief (and secret) romance, but had stopped seeing her as they got older. Princess duties and such. They never  _ officially  _ broke up, but they weren’t exactly in a relationship either.

He hoped this quest would fix that.

He looked through his book, wondering to himself what he had gotten himself into.

He eventually went to sleep, but not easily.

**Author's Note:**

> should i continue this? i think its kinda an "out there" AU but let me knowwwww


End file.
